


When the Bough Breaks

by wanderingstoryteller



Category: Z Nation (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fisting, In My Apocalypse There is Still Lube, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 04:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19244245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingstoryteller/pseuds/wanderingstoryteller
Summary: Georgia St. Claire finds herself a lover once she's finally had a chance to catch her breath after helping saving Newmerica.





	When the Bough Breaks

**Author's Note:**

> The first time I saw George on Z Nation, I crushed on her pretty hard. I knew I wanted to write an erotic fanfic with her, especially because as far as I can find, no one really has.
> 
> Oddly enough, although there are plenty badass female characters in Z Nation, George didn’t really have any sexual or romantic chemistry with any of them. I genuinely liked the mentor/mentee friendship she had with Warren and couldn't picture them getting together. George and Addy seem like they could be friends but again didn't seem like they'd ever go to bed together. 
> 
> I decided that the best way to tackle this fic was to pick up a couple months after where Z Nation ends and see what it would be like if George found a lover once she had a chance to catch her breath after saving Newmerica.

The only person actually surprised when Georgia St. Claire was elected president of Newmerica in the presidential and senate election that followed a few months after the constitutional one, was Georgia herself. As far as most of the citizens of Newmerica, living, dead, and everything in between were concerned, she was the face of Newmerica. Those posters had been very effective. Certain comparisons were made between George and a certain revolutionary war general who had later held higher office. Her name certainly lent itself to that comparison.

Warren stuck around just long enough to see her friend settled into her new office and then headed off to pursue certain matters of her own heart. Doc did the same. Addy wandered off, likely hoping to find adventure, more things to whack with her spiked club, and the peace continued to elude her ever since the day she was forced to mercy her own mother during black summer.

10k and Red decided to stay, Red being pregnant might have had something to do with that. Simon and Kaya helped them settle in. Soon enough 10K was the new head of security. As for Murphy, well no one was really sure where he went. He showed one of Newmerica’s last surviving scientists how to make the cure before he left at least. Every once in while rumors would get back to Newmerica of a strange red man with a rather devilish mustache who was very good at cheating at poker.

Production of the cure itself was slow and complicated but they began to work on streamlining the process as best they could. They stepped up biscuit production in the meantime. During the first months of her presidency, George chose to focus on building alliances and trade agreements with neighboring territories which had not chosen to become part of Newmerica.

The culmination of this was a massive meeting of delegates from neighboring colonies in Newmerica that fall. George hoped to get them all to agree to a series of treaties covering everything from mutual defense to trade. The ability of Newmerica to offer biscuits as an incentive went a long way and by the last day of the conference George was more than optimistic that most would agree. Spirits were high when negotiations concluded that night and everyone headed to a reception. The presence of copious amounts of free booze only served to improve moods further.

 

….

 

George looked up when the delegate from Juniper Enclave thumped two glasses of moonshine onto the table and sat down in the empty chair beside her. Rosemary O’Malley was only a few years older than George but the apocalypse had left its marks on her.  

Her attractive face had a red scar across the left cheek. Although she wore her dark hair long to cover it, she was missing part of an ear on the same side. She was a slight woman and whip thin in the way of a woman who’d been to the very brink of starvation and never regained the weight after. She had the kind of big blue eyes that under better circumstances might have made her look innocent but the tiredness behind them and her tendency to glare somewhat ruined that effect.  

She wasn’t glaring then, instead she gave George a slow lingering once over.

“I’ve been waiting half the night for you to buy me a drink and you’ve failed to do that, so I thought I’d take the initiative.”

George reached forward to take up her glass of moonshine and winced at the sharp taste of it. “There is no charge for drinks at the reception.”

Rosemary shrugged. “You could have still brought me one.”

While George was naive in some ways, largely regarding her faith in human nature, she was certainly not a virgin. That did not, however, mean she was accustomed to being hit on so directly. The last five years of her life had been more dedicated to surviving and building up Newmerica than anything else.

She offered her best diplomatic smile. “I didn’t realize you were interested.”

Rosemary leaned forward slightly. It was the sort of move that would have looked rather seductive in a slinky low cut gown but was still charming enough in a t-shirt. “You’re not very observant then. Your also not very subtle yourself, I noticed you looking at me during the negotiations today.”

“I was trying to figure out if you’d agree to the treaty and trade raw lithium for finished biscuits.”

“Yea, but you were enjoying the view.”

“You’re very sure of yourself.”

The Juniper Enclave representative shrugged. “I know that I ain’t bad looking and that pickings are a bit slim in the apocalypse. Choices are even more limited if your a woman who only fancies the farer sex.”

When George did not respond immediately, Rosemary tilted her head slightly to the side, “Unless I’ve read you wrong and made a fool of myself. You’ve got this wonderful soft butch vibe to you but maybe I shouldn’t have assumed.”

George leaned back in her chair, sipping at her terrible drink. “Soft huh?”

“I’m willing to be corrected on the matter.”

George considered her carefully, her gaze paused on her left hand. “You’ve got a gold wedding ring on our ring finger. The last thing I need is it being said that I messed around with a married woman.”

Rosemary's face closed like a slammed book. “She didn’t survive black summer but it has never been in me to take off the ring.”

“I’m sorry.” George laid a hand on her arm, all games and flirtation forgotten.

Rosemary look away. “Everyone’s sorry about something. The fucked up thing is that she and I were fighting like a pair of cats and on the edge of divorce when the world went to shit. We evacuated together, she got bit, and I mercied her when she turned. End of story.”

One rather fucked up part of the apocalypse was the tendency of some people to sum up the worst moments of their lives into a brief stump speech, as if sharing quickly could lesson the pain of what was lost.

George closed her eyes. “The first zombie I saw was my college girlfriend after she turned. I was too afraid to mercy her. I just ran.” She’d have probably died too if Warren hadn’t saved her.

The other woman shrugged and threw back most of her drink. “It doesn’t matter, not really. Once people are turned, really turned not just talkers, I don’t think there’s any soul left in there to suffer.”

George took as big a gulp of the foul rotgut as she could manage. How the hell did anyone manage to date much less go to bed with anyone when this was what passed for casual conversation now?

A delicate hand covered her own. “I’ve ruined it haven’t I?”

“No, you haven’t,” said George gently. “I’m the fool who asked you about the ring.”

“I don’t even know what I was thinking,” she sounded so tired. “You’re the president of Newmerica, you can’t just go tumbling into bed with some stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger. I know your last name Ms. O’Malley and that you chew on the cap of your pen when your bored and that you drink your tea black.”

“I like milk in my tea but I can’t find that anymore.”

“There’s goats milk and honey along with the tea and coffee during the meeting breaks and those weren’t easy to trade for.”

“I hate goats milk and I don’t like sweet things in my tea.”

George turned her hand beneath Rosemary’s, encompassing it in her own. “And I know that about you. You’re no stranger.”

“Why Ms. St. Clair, I’m starting to think you do want to take me to bed.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Yes but it is very charming.

They slipped from the reception as discreetly as they could. George knew there would be rumors and possible some good natured ribbing later but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Entertainment was hard to come by in the apocalypse and she begrudged no one their gossip.

Her room as small but on the top floor of the building and provided a good view of the fence and fields beyond. There had been some talk early on that maybe there should at least be a presidential suite of rooms or even a new White House. While such a building would have been inspiring, there weren’t really the resources. As for a suite of rooms, if there was one thing that George emphasized constantly, it was that presidents weren’t supposed to get special treatment. Her duty was to serve Newerica, not the other way around.

The room was oddly reminiscent of her college bedroom, from the electric kettle on the shelf to the poster of Abigail Adams on the wall. She did however, have a queen mattress at least, even if it was on top of a couple milk crates and wooden boards.  

“You’ve actually got a bed,” Rosemary sounded very pleased. She moved as if to fling herself onto it, then noticed the milk crate board situation under the bed and instead simply sat on the edge and began unlacing her hiking boots. Like most people in the apocalypse, she tended to favor function over form.

The sight was odd, almost domestic, especially considering they hadn’t even kissed yet. George felt suddenly shy. She took her time taking off her black leather coat and hanging it by the door. The beautiful tan and red coat she’d worn the day she announced the results of the constitutional election, had not survived a close encounter with a zombie and she’d gone back to the unstainable black leather one that had seen her through most of the apocalypse.  

“You really do look like the poster.”

“It was only my profile on it.”

Rosemary tugged off one hiking boot and started on the other, “Still unmistakable, that was excellent long term planning by the way. You became the face of Newmerica long before you ran for president.”

George crossed her arms in front of herself and leaned against the wall. “That was never my intention. All I ever wanted was to save democracy.”

The slight woman thumped her other boot to the floor, “Damn, you really are as noble as people say you are.”

“I’m not noble.”

Rosemary stood and crossed the room towards her on stockinged feet. “You’re the first person I’ve met in a long time who I actually cares about something more than themselves and their nearest and dearest.”

“Someone has to.”

“I almost don’t believe your real.” Rosemary rested one hand on the wall at George’s side and tilted up her head to look at the taller woman. “I didn’t think anyone like you survived Black Summer. Sometimes I think the world is just full of cold heartless creatures like me.”

George uncrossed her arms and pressed on against Rose’s chest just above her left breast. It took a moment but she found the steady thump of a pulse.

“You may be many things but you are not those two.”

Rose’s eyes went wide for a moment and then a sad sweet smile crossed her lips. “Quite the charmer, aren't you. Now, Madame President, are you going to kiss me or not?

George brought Rosemary closer with a hand against her back and then tilted her head down to bring their lips together. Rosemary melted against her, grabbing her shoulders for support and deepening the kiss.

When at last they pulled apart for breath, Rosemary whispered, “Carry me to bed.”

“Bossy.”

“Can’t you do it then?”

With a smirk George scooped her up in a proper princess carry and crossed the few steps to the bed. She set her down gently against the headboard and then climbed onto the bed after her. The whole structure made a somewhat ominous creaking sound and they both froze for a moment and then continued.

Between frantic kisses, Rosemary grabbed the bottom of George’s white shirt and tugged it over her head. George managed the same with Rose’s Beatles t-shirt. While Rose’s faded grey bra was easy enough to unclasp, actually pulling George’s sports bra over her head proved a bit complicated, especially as she kept trying to kiss Rosemary while the other woman was intently trying to free her of the white cotton elastic thing.

When she was a last free, George traced a hand over Rose’s small breasts. The room was dim, lit only by a single bulb and yet she could still see the three jagged lines that crossed her left breast and stomach. The wounds looked long healed, although the pinkness of the scars stood out against the paleness of the young woman’s skin.

Seeing her topless made it all the more evident how painfully thin she was. Apparently the rumors that George had heard about Juniper Enclave suffering a poor harvest the last fall and near starvation during the winter were true.

George made the mistake of stilling her hand as she looked. Rosemary flushed and covered the scars rather than her breasts.

“If you want me to put my shirt back on, I can.”

“What?”

“I know the scars are ugly.”

“No, you're beautiful.”

Nothing in the delegate's face suggested that she believed her.

Very lightly George traced a finger over the lines of scar tissue causing Rosemary to shudder. “These are proof that you have lived, that you’re a survivor, they are as beautiful as you.”  

She lowered her head to briefly kiss the beginning of each line before turning her attention to other parts. When she brought her mouth to one of Rose’s pale pink nipples the moaning sound she made was nearly lyrical. She cupped the other, gently running her thumb over the nipple and causing Rosemary to deepen her sounds.

She moved that hand lower after a moment, scrambling at Rosemary’s belt, which proved a bit challenging without looking. Rosemary had to reach down to help undo the buckle but George at least managed the button of her jeans. She sat back to tug down the slight woman’s jeans. Her left leg bore more marks.

While her curiosity was hard to ignore, George knew that it wasn’t her place to ask what had caused the scars. If Rosemary had wanted to tell her, she would. She contented herself instead with kissing a trail up the unmarked leg.

When she reached her center, she used her fingers to part her labia and bring her tongue in a long stroke up to her clit.

Rosemary gasped and grabbed at her hair, which was just long enough to pull.

George focused on her clit, varying between the flat of her tongue and the tip, sometimes simply licking and sometimes circling.

Rose’s moans became muffled as she covered her mouth with her other hand. George got her to the very edge but she didn’t tumble over. She paused and looked up. “Fingers?”

“Goddess yes.”

She shifted up to kiss Rosemary with her essence still on her lips as she pressed one and then two fingers into her slick body.

Rosemary gasped and clenched on her fingers as she began to curl them inside of her.

When George began to brush her thumb against her clit every couple motions, her lover clawed at the sheets.

“More.”

She added another finger and Rosemary threw back her head and didn’t try as hard to be quiet.

She rolled her hips to meet each thrust of George’s hand. “More,” she gasped.

“You sure?”

“Yes, fuck yes.”

“Let me get some lube.”

She pulled away to rummage in a drawer of the ugly orange bedside cabinet she’d dragged up to her room a few weeks before.

Rosemary watched her with interest. “Wait, you have lube? Like actual lube?”

George triumphantly held up a bottle of sliquid. “Yea. Fort Carter traded us a case for some biscuits about a month ago. The factory that used to make this stuff is in their territory and they’ve got pallets of it. They have even been talking about getting the factory up and running again.”

Rosemary just stared at her with wide eyes. “You’ve got everything in Newmerica don’t you?”

“We try.” She slicked her fingers and then set about working four into the woman beneath her.

Rosemary made her appreciation very clear as George settled into fucking her again, Through frantic breaths Rosemary managed to ask. “Have you ever fisted a woman?”

George slowed her hand, tilting her head slightly. “Not yet.”

“Do you want to?”

“I’d love to. Can you show me how?”

“Yea. Slick your hand up to the wrist.”

As George did that, Rosemary shifted one of the few pillows the bed had to just under her lower back so she could elevate her hips.

George felt suddenly hesitant. “So what do I do next.”

“Go back to fucking me, with four fingers for a bit.”

George did that. “And then?”

“Fold your thumb into your palm, turn a little bit to the left and then start pressing in again, very slowly.

George started to do that. She got close to the third knuckle and then she felt resistance. Rosemary went from moaning to something closer to panting. Worry tugged at the Newmerica president. “Am I hurting you.”

“No,” gasped Rose, “Just give me a second, keep pressing just very gently.”

George did and her hand slipped just a little bit more into Rosemary but no much.

Rosemary reached between them, caught her wrist and turned it. Suddenly everything lined up. The widest part of George’s hand pressed into the smaller woman and then she slipped in easily up to the wrist. The feeling of heat and tightness was incredible.

Rosemary made a very strange sound and went utterly still, her breaths shallow and fast.

Worriedly George touched the side of her face. “Rose?”

“I’m fine, give me a second, it’s been a while since I’ve done this.”

George brushed the other woman’s hair from her face, kissing her, although the angle was awkward.

Rosemary moved the hand she had between them to her own clit and began a slow rubbing motion. Soon enough she was making soft sounds of pleasure again. She clenched once around George’s hand as if getting a sense of it and then rolled her hips. The gasp she made was definitely from pleasure.

“Okay, now rock you hand but very, very gently.”

George obeyed. Rosemary cried out and clutched at the already rumpled sheets.

“Rose?”

“Keep doing that, yes just like that, fucking yes.”

Rosemary rolled her hips to meet the movements of George’s hand. The bed shifted ominously beneath them but held.

“Now, harder.”

George hesitated. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Rosemary actually laughed softly. “Trust me. I’ll let you know if you hurt me.”

So George fucked her harder and Rosemary kept moaning and moving to meet her.

“Harder, yes, that’s it yes!” She got louder and louder until likely the whole floor knew exactly what was going on in the presidential “suite.” Rosemary arched her back and nearly screamed. “George, yes, George fuck me!”

She clenched around her hand like a vice as her entire body went tense for a moment ceasing to move at all, save for her finger still rubbing her own clit.  Then she went limp, slumping beneath George.

After a moment she got back enough breath to said, “Out, but slowly.”

George did and Rosemary began to shiver. George pulled her into her arms and tugged a blanket around them both.

Rosemary curled against her. “Wow, that was just wow.”

“Happy to please.”

That was the moment the bed finally chose to collapse with a resounding crack.

They stayed in a startled tangle on the now lopsided mattress until Rosemary began to giggle.

A voice from a few doors down the hall, which sounded like Red, worriedly called. “Are you okay?”

George considered crawling under the bed and dying from embarrassment.

Rosemary apparently didn’t suffer from such modesty because she yelled back. “The bed broke. We’re fine.”

The sound of laughter that then drifted down the hall clearly came from more than one room.

George covered her face. “I am seriously installing some soundproofing.”

“Might want to focus on building an actual bed frame first.” She clearly found the entire situation absolutely hilarious. Then again, she wasn’t going to have to face half the floor in a cabinet meeting the next day.

“I’m never going to live this down,” George moaned.

“You will, you just need to learn to be shameless.”

“You’re certainly good at that.”

“I’ve got to have some talents.” She leaned over to run a hand down George’s naked chest to her dark jeans. “Now are you too traumatized to do anything but hide in the covers or do you want me to show you what else I’m good at?”

 

Breakfast the next morning was going to be awkward, no matter what, so Geoge decided to hell with it and ate her honey sweetened oatmeal and instant coffee with Rosemary in the big dining hall.

“Will I see you again?” She knew better than to make any assumptions.

Rosemary grinned at her over her own mug. “Yea, pretty soon actually. I’ll have to take the treaty back to Juniper Enclave to be signed but I intent to tell our fort leader that we should agree to the trade and defense alliance. I’ll probably be back in a week with the first shipment of lithium.”

George leaned forward and lowered her voice. “You’re not just agreeing to the treaty because of last night are you?”

Rosemary lightly tapped her on the nose. “You think very well of yourself don’t you lovely?”

George blushed.

She took her hand beneath the table. “As charming as you are, I still have to look out for my enclave’s best interests. I’ve know they would agree to the treaty from the moment you offered to trade us biscuits and share the cure when it came into production. Whatever we’ve got going on between us, be it one tumble or more, is just between us.”

In spite of herself, the Newmerica president smiled. “If you really are back in a week, I’d love to actually buy you a drink.”

“I look forward to it.”

 


End file.
